


Aurielic

by PerennialPen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Hermione Granger, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Character Growth, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Draco Malfoy Redemption, Draco Malfoy is a Good Boyfriend, Draco Malfoy is a Good Friend, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, Harry is still the Chosen One though, Hermione Granger is black, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Third Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, Lesbian Luna Lovegood, M/M, Multi, NOT rape!kink, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prophet Character, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ravenclaw, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Seer, Seer Character - Freeform, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Smut, Time Skips, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, basically im trying to tell yall its not trauma porn, different ages, non-sexualized rape, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerennialPen/pseuds/PerennialPen
Summary: Willow Potter has always felt a bit out of place. She's certainly not 'normal' enough to fit in with her adoptive family, but still not as prone to magical outbursts as her brother, Harry. Even so, she's content with her strange little life. But when Harry leaves for Hogwarts her life takes a sharp turn for the worse, making her question everything she has ever known about love, connection, and even herself.**First few chapters contain depictions of sexual abuse which I have done my best to NOT romanticize as so many other fics do. The style is more fade-to-black than explicit, but I still feel it still requires warning.**
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Characters/Original Female Characters, Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Willow Potter was not used to being ignored. She has always been a rambunctious child, prone to darting from one side of the house to the other with a speed that was impressive even for a lithe girl of thirteen. She was rarely caught sitting still, her brother Harry more used to seeing blurs of gangly limbs and swishes of long red hair than his sibling's actual face. This behavior caused quite a bit of tension in the Dursley household, but despite their distaste for the girl they were used to it. It wasn't as if she could be properly stopped- often she was literally too quick to catch. Certainly, her activities caused their uncle to smack her around the head and neck more than he did Harry, but she didn't mind. The bright pops of pain weren't so bad as to have really damaged her spirit into accepting a life of sitting still and looking pretty. 

She didn’t have quite as many strange magical outbursts as her brother, but as she aged, she did begin to notice something quite strange. It happened to her first. One morning she awoke with a bright bluish-purple light outlining her form. It terrified her to the point she didn’t even tell Harry about it. But eventually, she began to see a light around him too, this one a reddish-orange. Willow half expected to see everyone’s ‘true color’ as she eventually began to call it, but the Dursley’s never got one. It was just her and Harry. Occasionally she would stumble across a stranger bathed in yellow, green, or even white, but it wasn’t often. She knew she could have probably told her brother about it but something kept her quiet.

It wasn't a perfect way to grow up, far from it, really. Vernon and Petunia were cold, distant, and clearly resentful of the transplanted siblings. Dudley was so obnoxiously mean that the older boy often made Willow see red. She had very few friends at school due to her cousin's bullying and she struggled to pay attention in class. But Harry was always there for her and she for him. All through her life, the young ginger had always known that she had an ally in life, even if he was much more demure than she could fathom being. They were closer than a pair of pebbles wedged between slabs of sidewalk. 

So it was extremely strange, to say the least when Harry had left the autumn prior for a magical wizarding school. Willow almost didn't believe that it was real until he began sending regular owls to deliver her letters and magical trinkets. So far she had acquired twelve hand-inked parchment notes and three gifts: a chocolate frog that had leaped out her window before she had gotten to try it (she hadn't read his warning beforehand), a tiny ballerina figurine that would sometimes dance about in place if she asked it nicely, and the best of all- a quill that knew all the answers to her school assignments. She didn't dare bring it to class with her but she had improved her homework grades quite a bit through its use. 

Yet the strangest part still was not his absence. It left an empty feeling in her chest to be without him, yes. But what puzzled her the most was that her adoptive family left her alone near entirely now. It was almost as if -dare she say- they were scared of her. 

As the cool, wet spring began to give way to the humid air of summer, Willow began to feel beside herself with excitement. Not only would Harry be coming home, but she herself would be leaving with him next year, the humongous man who had taken her brother away had promised it. She could barely wait- she would learn to control _magic!_ Maybe it was her imagination but sometimes she swore she could feel it thrumming in her veins, begging to be released. And almost better than that there would be no more algebra, no more mean public school girls, no more of her cousin's cruelty (at least for a good chunk of the year, that is).

Speaking of Dudley, Willow thought her cousin's new attitude towards her was the strangest of all the Dursleys. While he mostly ignored her like his parents, Willow was sure she had caught him staring at her legs and bum quite a few times. It angered her in a way she couldn't yet understand. She knew it was somehow wrong of him to stare at her like that but it wasn't as if she really knew why.

She wondered what had changed within her that had earned her his slimy glances. She studied herself often in the mirror but didn't think she looked any different than she normally did. She was still quite short and very petite, still pale and rosy and wide green-eyed. She supposed maybe as she had aged her hips had grown fuller, or maybe she could see breasts beginning to bud. She hadn't had her time of the month yet (which she had the great displeasure of learning about in health the semester prior) but she could tell she would soon. It was an uncomfortable conundrum and without any understanding of what had changed within her cousin, she was left only with blaming herself.

It wasn't until after her fourteenth birthday that things started to get really strange. Petunia had been kind enough to pick her up some better fitting clothes from the secondhand shop for the occasion, but most of the bottoms she had received were several sizes too big. So she was stuck in the same old jumpers as before which were shorter and tighter than she had remembered. One night Dudley decided he saw fit to comment on it. 

"Slut," he sneered at her, his eyes boldly roaming the back of her thighs. She whirled around, flushing angrily. 

"Tosser!" She retorted in a growl. She wasn't totally sure what 'slut' meant, but she had heard girls calling her it at school before, so she knew it wasn't nice. 

"You'd think you liked the attention," the boy laughed nastily, "parading around in that flimsy thing…"

She flushed angrily.

"...your knickers are polka dot."

She screeched and tugged the back of her jumper down furiously, storming up the stairs to her room. Flopping down onto her bed she burst into a gush of humiliated tears. 

From then on she tied a cord around the waistband of her too-large new bottoms, not caring a bit if she looked silly. But even that didn't deter the hated boy from making his comments whenever he liked, even in front of his parents. Willow had hoped they would intervene but like she secretly expected they turned a blind eye to it. Their 'darling baby boy' could do no wrong. 

Willow considered owling her brother the first time Dudley slapped her on the bum, but she decided against it. She wasn't going to bother her brother when he was wrapped up in examinations. 

She considered writing to him again when he slid a hand up her shirt to twist her nipple painfully, but again she steeled herself against it. 

_Just two more months and he'll be home._

Willow never expected it would go so far as it did. 

Around a month before Harry's return, Dudley had slipped into her bedroom noisily, rousing her out of fitful sleep. Against her better judgment, she began to cry. Something in her knew what was about to happen. 

"Leave me alone, Dudley! I'll tell Harry on you and he'll hex you into next year!"

Dudley just smirked. 

"Dad told me last night that you two can't use magic outside of school else you’ll be kicked out. You don't want Harry to get expelled over your whining, do you?"

Willow gulped. She hadn't thought of that. She could imagine what her brother would do to Dudley if he knew how their cousin was acting. It certainly wouldn't be a non-magical retaliation. 

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" She asked shakily, hating the tremor in her voice. 

He snickered, the sound mean and devoid of mirth. He advanced on her, pinning her wrists against her desk. She screamed, but no one came to her aid. She knew her Aunt and Uncle were just a door down. They had to have heard. 

"I could, I suppose."

She relaxed a bit. Maybe he would go away now.

"But I don't want to."

Willow kept deadly silent throughout the entire ordeal, methodically counting the seconds as he violated her. It hurt worse than anything else she had ever felt, but she didn't react. She wouldn't ever give him the pleasure.

 _Please, Harry_ , she thought before she slipped into unconsciousness, _please come home._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! There's a bit more description of sexual abuse in this one, but after this chapter, all mentions will be far less explicit. I also wanted to make the ages and years of the main characters in this universe as some have changed.
> 
> First and foremost, the traditional Hogwarts ages have changed. In this story first years are fourteen, all the way up to seventh years who are twenty. With that in mind, here are the ages of all of the characters.
> 
> -As previously mentioned, Willow is fourteen by the end of chapter one. 
> 
> -Harry is fifteen along with the Golden Trio and Draco
> 
> -Luna Lovegood is fourteen and a first-year along with Willow. 
> 
> -Dudley is sixteen (one year older than Harry). This is to ensure his behavior makes sense developmentally.
> 
> With all that in mind, I hope you enjoy and decide to stick around! This is my very first HP fic so let me know if you see areas for improvement! Thanks for reading!

Almost every night that month Dudley raped her. It became easier and easier for Willow to close her mind to it until eventually she was left with a husk of her former personality. The assaults became more and more violent the closer the date moved to Harry's arrival but Dudley was quite careful not to harm her anywhere visible. She could tell he was getting nervous for his cousin's return as the rate of his frantic threats not to tell a soul increased to at least twice a night. She didn't tell him that it didn't matter. She wouldn't risk Harry's place at Hogwarts. He had done so much for her already. 

The worst part of it was that her color had slowly changed. The bright blend of purple and blue had begun to fade, eventually slipping away entirely into a warm muddied grey. It was heartbreaking. She had stayed strong through the assaults. She had never cried again since the first time. But this development made her burst into tears every time she caught a glance of herself. It aggravated her self loathing to even more towering heights. She felt she was truly dirtied now, her very soul soiled by her weakness. She hadn’t realized how important the simple color was to her identity until it was gone. 

Much to everyone's surprise Willow didn't go with her Aunt and Uncle to retrieve her brother from the station. To be honest she was now dreading his return. She was so ashamed of what she had allowed herself to become in his absence. She could have worn a different jumper that first day. She could have fought back harder. She could have gotten out of it somehow if she was smart enough. But she wasn't smart enough. Like everything else in her life, she couldn't make the grade. Maybe she _had_ wanted it. Just like Dudley had said. 

Willow knew Harry could see the difference in her. Not only was her personality flattened and dull, she knew she had lost weight. She had just stopped eating. _What was the point in it?_ she wondered. Maybe if she became small enough Dudley would see her as a stupid little girl again and leave her alone. 

To his credit, Harry tried to make it clear that Willow could talk to him about anything. It was unnecessary as she already knew that she could, or at least that she could have at one point. She still appreciated the offer, though. It was nice to know he cared even if she couldn’t let him in. Because as good as Harry's intentions were she wasn't going to take him up on his offer. She wasn't going to put his happiness in danger over her faults. 

The only highlight of the horrible summer was her first trip to Diagon Alley. Upon their arrival, Willow found herself totally speechless, her mind overwhelmed by the sheer magical energy in the air. Their first stop was to Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Harry had told her to be excited for this, but even that hadn’t prepared her for the amount of treasure in her vault. 

“Harry,” she questioned slowly, “Are we rich?”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, I suppose we kind of are, aren’t we?”

They visited strange apparel emporiums that only sold robes, a wand seller where one of the strange instruments chose _her,_ bookstores stacked to the brim with tomes that shifted and grumbled to each other on occasion, and a pet shop that stocked its aisles with creatures beyond her very imagination. Willow found herself buying things with more abandon than she had only dreamed of before. Beautiful sweaters charmed to keep her warm, candies that made you giggle as you ate them, quills and pieces of parchment that gave a sharp shock to anyone who tried to steal them. And best of all, an almost alarmingly intelligent calico cat, who’s indigo eyes matched her own halo of color. 

That was the part that really brought Willow joy. _Everyone_ here shown bright with light, the colors almost blinding. Blues blended with greens, yellows with spots of pink. Everyone rushing about together in a rainbow unlike any Willow had ever seen before. 

It was the sheer amount of colors that prompted her to finally ask Harry the question that had tugged at her brain all these years. She turned to him almost meekly. 

“Harry?” she queried, afraid to just come out and say it. 

He looked at her curiously. He was now used to the duller tone in his sister’s voice, but certainly not to shyness. 

“Yeah, Will, what’s up?”

“Do you ever… erm… see them too? The lights?”

Harry cocked his head at her. 

“What lights?”

She blushed furiously and looked down, sure her cheeks were now as red as her hair. 

“Nevermind.”

As the day drew to a close Willow felt herself curling into herself in fear. She didn’t ever want to leave. Not if leaving meant going back to Privet Drive. Going back to _him._ But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. Maybe Dudley had had enough of her. 

But the abuse only continued. He was now sneakier than ever, actually making an effort to be silent as he got his kicks from her agony. This time Willow found herself counting down the days until she left for school to pass the awful minutes. The night before she was whisked away to Hogwarts she found herself simply repeating the number one in her head over and over. It wasn't much, but it did give her some hope. 

As she fell into a fitful sleep that night she dreamed of a better future. One where she could finally feel free. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into more of the real fun:) I've been very excited to post this chapter because it includes a new original character that I really enjoy writing! I hope you all like her as much as I do. If you have any feedback feel free to review!

Hagrid dropped them off at the station rather unceremoniously, disappearing before Willow had the chance to ask him what on earth ‘Platform 9 and 3/4s” was. Harry seemed to know, however and greeted a redheaded boy with a grin. Willow smiled. This must be Ron.

“Ron, meet my sister Will. She’s a first-year.”

Willow punched his shoulder, the new environment allowing a bit of her old jovial nature to slip back in. 

“That’s not my name, you arse!” She turned to the boy, sticking out her hand. 

“My name’s Willow.” 

For some odd reason, Ron blushed and looked away from her gaze, the color he turned reminding herself of her own ruddy cheeks. 

“Erm, right. I’m Ron.”

Willow laughed. He was quite awkward but she did like him. His true color was red like Harry’s, so he couldn’t possibly be all bad. 

Harry tried to introduce her to Ron’s first-year sister, Ginny, who glowed a bright yellowish-green. Willow grinned at her and waved but the girl couldn’t seem to take her attention away from Harry long enough to bother with her. Willow didn’t mind that she had a crush on her brother- which she clearly did. She just wished she could take a minute to be friendly with her too. 

They passed through the wall and Willow felt anxiety rise in her throat as she realized she would be separated from Harry. Her brief blip of confidence was gone and as she entered the first year cabin she felt like she was drowning. Boys and girls flitted all over the narrow hall, giggling and catching up joyfully. She felt her spirits plummet. Everyone here knew each other already. This was like public school all over again. 

Shakily she walked up to Ginny who was surrounded by a gaggle of her friends, all whispering conspiratorially. Maybe she would like her more when Harry wasn’t around. 

“Hey, Ginny! Would you like to share a cabin? I can buy us some treats from the trolley if you want!”

Ginny turned to her with a sneer and Willow felt her heart drop to her stomach. That wasn’t a good sign. 

“I don’t want handouts, thanks.” 

With that she turned back to face her friends, quite literally shutting her fellow ginger out. 

Ginny’s group settled into a cabin like the rest of the first years, and Willow found herself standing almost alone in the hall. Even when the train started to move she couldn’t bring herself to find a seat. Her first attempt to be friendly had been a total flop, why would she submit herself to further humiliation? A jolt of the train sent her flipping to the ground, but she didn't pick herself back up. What was the point? 

Suddenly a pale slender hand came across her vision, palm outreached in a gesture of camaraderie. It was surrounded by the most brilliant silver light Willow had ever seen. She looked up to see an almost elfin face surrounded by delicately braided platinum hair gazing at her expectantly. 

"Are you getting up or not? I don't have all day."

Willow blushed and grabbed the girl's hand, which was surprisingly strong as it pulled her to her feet. She fixed Willow with a serious stare as if assessing her face. 

"You're Willow Potter, aren't you? My brother hates yours, but I think Draco's a wanker too, so we should get along fine."

Willow nodded slowly and before she had the chance to process the information her new acquaintance continued,

"I'm Aquila Malfoy. You can come with me to meet my friends. We're in the last cabin on the left. Come on, let's go."

It clearly wasn't a question so Willow followed feeling a bit lost. How had Aquila known who she was? Why had Ginny shunned her so harshly? Wasn't Draco the cruel boy who bullied Harry's friends for not being purebloods? If that was true should she really hang out with his sister?

None of these questions were answered by the time she was shuffled into a cabin containing two very well dressed girls, one with deep brown skin and tightly coiled hair, the other a lighter brown with black hair so long and smooth it looked like an oil slick. Both of them were wearing luxurious looking Slytherin scarves. Willow stared at them in confusion. Had they somehow already been sorted? 

One of them wrinkled their nose haughtily. 

"That's not a Weasley, is it?"

"Oh come off it, Lavinia, not every ginger at Hogwarts is a Weasley. Girls, this is Willow Potter. Willow, this is Lavinia Zabini-" she pointed at the darker girl who had just spoken, "-and Hera Jones.” the tan girl gave a small wave, tossing a lock of shimmery black hair over her shoulder. “They'll be in Slytherin with me." 

Willow sat down carefully, still unsure of what to make of the situation.

"You're much prettier than a Weasley," said Hera thoughtfully, "I should have known better. You're not at all ruddy like that lot, you're actually quite delicate. Like a true pureblood girl."

Willow flushed angrily and opened her mouth to retort but Lavinia cut her off. 

"I don't think the Weasleys are really purebloods in the first place. I mean with their parent’s muggle obsession at least one of them has to be a bastard if you know what I mean." She said with a cruel snicker. 

Willow began to stand up from her seat to leave but before she did Aquila placed a hand on her leg, shooting her an almost desperate glance. Something in the look made Willow still. Maybe she was different from her friends. She certainly hadn't contributed to Lavinia and Hera's petty nastiness. On the other hand, she hadn't stopped them either. Willow sighed. This situation just kept getting more and more confusing. 

"So, Potter," Lavinia queried, breaking her out of her thoughts, "what house do you expect to be?"

"Erm, I guess I don't have any guesses so far? I've read quite a few books on the houses but I don't think I'm convinced I'm any of them yet."

Lavinia nodded.

"You know, my brother said the sorting hat considers which house its wearer desires. I bet if you asked to be in Slytherin it would let you. We are the most prestigious house and you would do well to-"

"What house do _you_ prefer, Willow?" Aquila asked with a sharp glance at her friend, cutting her off. Lavinia huffed in annoyance but still quieted. 

Willow thought for a moment before answering. 

"Well Harry really wants me to be in Gryffindor with him-" Hera rolled her eyes but Willow continued, "but I don't know if I agree. I'm not really courageous or bold-"

"-or hopefully pig-headed and petty," Aquila added with a laugh. Willow couldn't help but giggle in return. She had definitely also seen that trait from what Gryffindors she had met. 

"Yeah and hopefully not those things either. So I'm rather rooting for Hufflepuff. I think I'm pretty loyal and I've always been hard working. I think I might fit in really well there."

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Willow blushed. Not that she cared too deeply about what Lavinia and Hera thought, but that was clearly the wrong thing to say.

"Hufflepuffs are almost worse than Gryffindors. Sure they aren't as dumb but I would honestly rather be dumb than meek and forgettable," she looked at Willow with a condescending smile, "but it's ok, Potter. We understand you were raised by muggles. It's lucky you came to sit with us. We'll make sure you learn the right way to see things."

With that Willow decided she absolutely despised Hera and Lavinia. Her opinion was still cloudy on Aquila, but if she associated with such a vile sort she wasn't at all sure she could tolerate her friendship. 

"I don't think you're a Hufflepuff at all," said Aquila, so quietly Willow almost didn't hear her, "Not that it's a bad house. You just don't seem to be their type. My bet is that you're sorted Ravenclaw."

Willow shook her head in dissent, "No, I'm not nearly smart enough. I do awful in all my courses at home."

"Well, I can imagine muggle school is very different from wizarding school. And I just have a feeling that you're going to be a very powerful witch. I can't figure why, yet. Call it intuition I suppose."

Willow looked at her feeling almost awestruck. She knew it shouldn't have affected her so but… no one had ever had faith in her besides Harry. She gave a small smile. Maybe Aquila wasn't so bad after all. 

"I hope you're right."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, friends, this should be the last chapter before I time skip to the events of the Goblet of Fire (in which Willow will be a third-year). As a reminder, the ages for each of the years are different in this fic. First years start at thirteen all the way up to seventh years who graduate at nineteen. Anyhow, hope you all enjoy!

Willow gasped in awe as she stepped off the train, her mind completely boggled. The castle was even grander than Harry’s description could have encompassed. And she got to  _ live  _ here, she thought with glee. This was her home now. 

As they approached the Great Hall Willow felt a body shove its way past hers. She whipped around in annoyance to see Ginny standing before her. She scoffed.

“Seems about right you would run with a bunch of bigoted cows.”

Willow flushed in anger

“You don’t know the first thing about me at all! And I’m not  _ running  _ with anyone. I just sat with them. Is that illegal?”

“No!” Ginny retorted, sounding defensive, “Just typical.”

“Whatever,” Willow said with a roll of her eyes, “anyways I don’-”

"-Ooh the muggle lover is right mad that this Potter is doing better for herself, isn't she?" Sneered Hera, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, "They can't  _ all  _ mingle with trash like you, now can they?"

Rose opened her mouth to snap back at Hera but was cut off again by her second cabin-mate. 

"Yeah and it’s such a shame that you look so similar, isn't it? Hard to not compare yourself to a girl who looks just like everything you would… if you weren't shaped like a chubby nine-year-old boy."

Ginny blushed furiously and tears welled up in her eyes. Willow had to put a stop to this. 

"Guys quit. She might be snippy but she can't help who her family is, and there's nothing wrong with them anyw-"

"Nothing wrong with who?" Ginny cried out furiously, "ugly, boyish, muggle lovers?"

Willow flinched. That wasn't even close to what she was going to say. Coolly Aquila slid up behind her. 

"Save your breath, Willow." She said, glaring daggers into Ginny, "She's the type to fly off the handle at the littlest thing. Nothing to do with her family, really. All to do with bad character." 

Ginny took off crying and Willow moved to follow but Aquila put a hand on her arm. 

"Really, Willow, she's been nothing but nasty to you. I saw how you tried to help her on the train. There's a time and place for heroism, but this isn't it."

Willow gulped guiltily, still trying to catch a glimpse of Ginny through the crowded hall. She hadn't deserved that, even as nasty as she was. She didn't believe in pureblood supremacy, or body shaming, or any of that. She looked back at Hera and Lavinia and felt her blood begin to boil. 

“Who do you two think you are to speak to another girl like that?! There’s nothing wrong with being a Weasley, or a halfblood or muggleborn. She might be nasty but she was right. You  _ are  _ bigots.”

Lavinia laughed cruelly, staring down her nose at the other girl. 

“Oh,  _ Potter, _ ” she snarked, a nasty tone to her voice when she spoke her surname, “It’s not bigotry if you’re right.”

Willow turned to look at Aquila, hopeful that her new acquaintance (perhaps friend?) would step in. But she just shot a guilty glance at the redhead then stared down at her shiny black penny loafers. 

_ If she can’t stand up for what’s right,  _ Willow rationalized,  _ then she’s really no better than the rest. _

With that she turned her back on them, pushing her way through the crowd to find Ginny. 

Much to her dismay, Ginny was entirely surrounded by a gaggle of other first years while she sobbed into her hands. Willow felt awful. Ginny had been mean to her too but it didn’t mean she deserved to be made fun of for something beyond her control. 

“Ginny!” she tried to call out to her, “Ginny I’m really-”

“Lay off her, you twit,” barked one of the other thirteen-year-olds in the tightly knit gathering, “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” 

Willow backed down. The girl was right. She had been wrong to back Aquila and her gang. Now she was just paying the price. She began to feel tears well up in her own eyes.  _ Why couldn’t she just be normal and make friends?  _

Before she had much time to stew in her shame they were being ushered through the grand doors that led to the Great Hall and once again Willow felt her anxieties drip away as her senses were filled with wonder. The other students seemed to be experiencing the same emotion as they all oohed softly at the splendor. They came to a stop in front of a long podium where the Professors sat looking like royals lording over their kingdom. Willow gulped. There, just in front of them, sat the sorting hat. 

Willow felt herself becoming more and more fidgety as Professor McGonagall alphabetically called each anxious thirteen-year-old out by name, the process taking far too long for her liking. She zoned out for what seemed like just a moment until she heard a familiar name ring through the large space. 

“Aquila Malfoy!” 

The delicate blonde stepped up onto the platform, looking cool and composed. But the sorting hat was barely even placed on her head when it loudly exclaimed:

"Ravenclaw!"

The little color that Aquila had drained from her face in an instant. She sat stock-still as the whole hall went silent. Slowly, she collected herself and stiffly walked to take a seat at the Ravenclaw table, all the way at the end, as far removed from the other students as she could be. 

The rest of the first years between them were called and the energy in the room quickly returned to its usual boisterous chatter. But she couldn't keep her eyes off of Aquila. She looked close to tears and wouldn't meet her eyes. She almost didn't hear when her name was called. 

Shakily she walked up to the podium, sitting down nervously as the hat was placed upon her head. 

"Ah, another Potter. The  _ girl  _ who lived, they say. But the death curse wasn't all you survived was it, now?"

Willow tried not to react, but she did jump a bit at the mention. How could it know about that? 

"Don't be ashamed, child, no. You will soon learn you will grow from your scars. But never mind that, the real question is what to do with you? Brave, intelligent, but boiling just about to the top with anger. You've known blinding rage, haven't you? It controls you more than you know. Slytherin would be a good fit indeed. But yet, a passion for knowledge still lies at your core. Better be…"

Willow crossed her fingers behind her back.

"Ravenclaw!"

She gasped as the blue and bronze table erupted into cheers, waving her over joyfully. She looked over to the Gryffindor table, half expected to a disappointed look in his eye. But he too was standing and clapping, Hermione and almost all of the Weasley clan joining him. She did notice Ginny sitting sullenly in her chair watching Harry’s reaction, but she didn’t care. What kind of whacko was jealous of her crush's  _ sister  _ anyway?

She made her way to the long Ravenclaw table, considering sitting beside Aquila’s solitary form, but she was nearly pulled to a seat by an excited girl with the strangest glasses on Willow had ever seen. 

“Oh dear you’re just surrounded by wrackspurts, aren’t you?” The strange first-year questioned. Willow whipped around looking for whatever a wrackspurt was. The bespectacled girl just laughed. 

“Well, you can’t see them without  _ these  _ silly! Here, try them on!”

Reluctantly Willow took the strange, multicolored contraptions, half expecting them to shock her or something as she put them on her face. Fortunately, they did nothing of the sort. Unfortunately, they didn’t show her any ‘wrackspurts’. They seemed to just be cheap plastic glasses, like the ones you could get at a 3D movie. Willow guessed the wavy plastic  _ did  _ cause a bit of distortion that if she squinted could maybe be interpreted as… well… something. 

“You see now? They’re dancing all about you! That’s probably what’s making you feel so conflicted and confused right now!” 

Willow nodded slowly as she took the glasses off and briefly considered correcting her, but the look in the other girl’s eyes was so earnest that she didn’t have the heart. Plus she did find it interesting how she had so easily read how she was feeling.

“Oh, yeah, loads of them.” 

Willow was greeted with a wide smile in return. 

“I’m Luna Lovegood, who are you?”

Willow sat down curiously beside her. From the looks of the other Ravenclaws, it was very clear that most people knew who she was already. 

“I’m Willow Potter.”

“Oh!” Luna exclaimed with a grin, “My father wrote all about you and your brother in his magazine! He reckons you survived Lord Voldemort’s curse because he may have been infested by nargles at the time of attack!” 

Willow raised her eyebrows in surprise, which Luna seemed to take as offense. She stuttered sheepishly before replying.

“O-oh sorry! I didn’t mean to pour bulbadox juice in old wounds... It’s alright though, my mother died too when I was quite little. Accidentally blew herself up practicing a new spell she had invented… so I know how it feels.”

Willow gave a small smile. She decided she liked Luna, with her clueless lack of social graces. She was honest and kind which gave her a bit of hope that the social scene here wouldn’t be as bad as it was back home. Besides, the swirly cloud of lavender that surrounded her was quite pretty to look at. 

“It’s alright. I don’t remember them anyhow… feels strange to be expected to mourn people I didn’t even know.” 

Luna nodded sagely, her stark white hair bobbing gently around her cherub cheeked tan face. 

“All feelings are there- or not there- for a reason. There’s no good or bad way to have them.”

Willow pondered that for a minute. 

“I think you’re probably right. Just still feels… wonky.”

Luna perked up at the sound of the strange pair of syllables.

“Wonky? Is that a muggle word? I quite like that!” 

The two chattered like this nonstop throughout the rest of the meal, laughing and going on brightly as if there wasn’t a care in the world. Much to Willow’s delight, they made the discovery that they shared the same dormitory and much of their night was spent lying awake and talking until they were finally hushed by the other exhausted children. With her calico (whom she had named Athena based upon her wisdom-filled eyes and fierce claws) curled up beside her, Willow fell easily to sleep for the first time in months. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the previous chapter this next part is intended to be a filler to bridge us over to Willow's third year (the Goblet of Fire). Still, I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to review with any feedback!

Willow’s year at Hogwarts slipped by faster than she could have ever imagined possible. It became clear to the young girl in the coming months that Harry was indeed something of a wizarding celebrity. The boy who lived, they called him, yet no one but the hat had ever acknowledged that she had survived too. It didn’t seem to matter in the same way. She didn’t have the scar to prove it. 

Willow didn’t mind so much at first, it wasn’t like her brother seemed to enjoy the fame. And with her relative anonymity as “Harry’s sister”, she blended in easily with her peers. Luna had quickly become her best friend in the past months- a relationship which she was incredibly grateful for. She was strange for sure, but also wicked smart and endlessly kind. Plus, Willow thought her strangeness made things much more interesting. History of Magic was far less dull when her blonde friend was waving excitedly about her head trying to dispel the wrackspurts.

Speaking of classes, the ginger was finding them to be a bit disappointing. Well, it wasn’t so much that they themselves were uninteresting. Everything she had learned was equally as fascinating as it was mystifying, especially transfiguration and defense against the dark arts. So no, it wasn’t the professors or the coursework at fault. It was her that was the real disappointment. 

It wasn’t to say that she was failing, she was passing with mostly “A’s” and a few “E’s”, which she figured were the wizarding equivalent to “C’s” and B’s”. This was a far cry better than how she had been doing in muggle school, but it still didn’t live up to her brother- or the Ravenclaw standard. Few of her peers had anything less than a perfect average and she felt dreadfully out of place. She couldn’t yet figure why she had been sorted there, or why people had put so much faith in her. Even from the start, it was Harry that had always had the most magical prowess. Besides the colors she saw, which she was beginning to think weren’t even real, there was little she had ever been naturally good at. Everything studious had always been a challenge for her mind to grasp.

But even with all her struggles she still wasn’t doing as poorly as Aquila. It was as if her brief acquaintance wasn’t even trying. Willow couldn’t blame her, the other Ravenclaws practically tortured her and on top of that, her Slytherin friends had seemed to have shunned her completely. In the beginning Willow didn’t understand why, but Luna had explained to her that Aquila’s father, along with most of the males in her family, had been Death Eaters. Lucious had barely escaped a lifetime in Azkaban for his crimes, only his higher up connections in the Ministry sparing him. Every other child born to a Death Eater was a Slytherin, so for Aquila to be a Ravenclaw was unprecedented. That combined with the fact that there literally hadn’t been a non-Slytherin Malfoy in the past two centuries… Willow could only imagine what she was going through. 

She had tried to reach out to her but each attempt was met with defensiveness and spite. Willow relented after the third or fourth try. She felt bad for the girl, liked her even, but if she didn’t want to be helped then Willow couldn’t change that. 

As the year grew to a close Willow found herself plagued with torturous dreams of her past at Privet Drive. She knew it was odd that she hadn’t had them sooner- she had heard about PTSD in the brief health classes she had endured at her old school. But she had been getting by pretty well so far on the power of aggressive denial and distraction. Now her nights were sullied with flashing memories of things that had already occurred- but the night before she was set to board the train she had one that was quite different. 

_ She and Harry had been standing in the kitchen while Dudley and his parents sat at the table eating a meal. A dull pain still throbbing between her legs from whatever thing he had done to her in the hours prior, which was strange because she had never experienced physical pain in a dream before. Marge was there too, with her disgusting bulldog Ripper sloppily drinking brandy out of a glass on the floor. Willow wrinkled her nose. She could practically smell his slobber.  _

_ “What did the brat’s father do for work, Petunia?” She asked, shooting a disdainful glance at her and Harry. Petunia flushed. _

_ “N-nothing. He didn’t work, he was unemployed.” _

_ Marge scoffed.  _

_ “And a drunk too, no doubt?”  _

_ Willow felt her brother tense beside her and before she could persuade him otherwise he spun around to face Marge, face splotched red in anger.  _

_ That’s a lie! Our dad wasn’t a drunk!”  _

_ The glass Marge was holding rather loosely in her hand exploded into pieces and Willow felt her stomach drop. That was never a good sign.  _

_ “Oh, don't worry Don't fuss, Petunia. I have a very firm grip.” _

_ “I think it’s time you two went-” growled Vernon but Marge interrupted before he could finish. _

_ “Quiet, Vernon. You, clean it up!” She barked at Willow, and she turned to grab a towel, feeling resigned.  _

_ “Actually, it's nothing to do with the father, it's all to do with the mother. You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pups.” _

_ “Shut up! Shut up!” Yelled Harry. Willow’s hair stood on end as the air crackled with magic. Marge squinted meanly at Harry, raising a finger at him.  _

_ “Let me tell you-”  _

_ Before she could finish the offending finger began to bulge cartoonishly, the rest of her body quickly following. Willow gasped in horror but admittedly had to stifle a giggle as a button on her coat popped off, striking Dudley right in the eye. Soon she began to float up into the air like some sort of horrible flesh balloon, screeching the whole time at Vernon to ‘Get her down right this instant’. The circulation of the fan began to float her out through the door, and before Willow could find out what happened next she awoke with a start.  _

Rubbing her eyes she sat up blearily, wondering at her strange dream. She shrugged and rolled back over. She would probably forget it by the morning. 

But when she awoke for the second time it had not slipped from her mind as most dreams do, instead remaining as clear as if it were the past day’s events. In a strange way, it seemed even clearer than that. Still, she pushed the thoughts from her head. People had strange dreams, she wasn’t immune. 

Privet Drive was exactly as awful as Willow had feared- even worse now that she knew what real freedom and safety felt like. It almost made her wish that she had never left, as awful as that thought was. But it had been far easier to shut off completely when she had no comparison as to how much better things could be. Now it seemed harder than ever before to get anything done. She barely ate, rarely slept, and stopped responding to Luna’s owls almost entirely. It was too painful to hear about her friend’s gentle, curious life living in a grand cottage with her loving father. 

About a week before she and Harry were set to leave Vernon made the announcement that Marge was coming over for dinner. Willow felt her stomach tense but she tried to brush it off.  _ It was just a silly dream  _ she told herself quietly,  _ nothing’s going to happen.  _

In spite of this, Dudley had snuck into her room just hours before their Aunt’s arrival, closing a hand tightly over Willow’s mouth as he entered her. He didn’t use to have to do that but lately she had been having a harder time keeping quiet. She couldn’t quite drift away in her mind the way she once was able to. 

The rest of the evening began to proceed exactly how it had in her dream. Part of her wanted to warn Harry so they could try and change the course of events, but something stopped her. For some reason she had the niggling feeling that things were supposed to go a certain way for a reason. Besides, there was still a large chance that she was wrong and telling would just make her look like an idiot. 

“Willow! Willow! Open the door!” cried her Aunt, ushering her towards the entrance. She reluctantly slid the lock open on the door only to be immediately tackled to the ground by Ripper, who immediately proceeded to slobber all over her. Willow cringed and tried to shove him off but no one came to help her. 

“Marge! How lovely to see you! I hope you’ve…” 

The night droned on exactly how Willow had remembered it. As each second ticked by on the clock she felt herself wanting to warn Harry more and more, but there was no good time to pull him aside to speak privately. 

“What did the brat’s father do for work, Petunia?” 

Before she knew it the event had already gone down, Marge floating away into the deepening blue sky, her screams still heard even when she couldn’t be seen past the clouds. Willow’s stomach began to twist into knots. She didn’t like Marge at all… but she certainly didn’t want her to  _ die.  _ Twiddling her thumbs in anxiety she stared up at the sky while Petunia comforted Vernon’s crying form on the lawn.  _ What had Harry done?  _

“C’mon, Will, we’re getting out of here,” he said decidedly, tugging her arm to lug her up the stairs. Willow followed distantly, packing her things in a haze while Athena curled lazily in and out from between her feet. She carefully picked the creature up, warranting a sharp hiss, and settled her into her carrier, tossing a catnip treat in with her for comfort. 

Harry thudded their trunks down the stairs, Willow still cradling Athena’s large carrier awkwardly in her too-thin arms. She squealed and nearly dropped the precious animal when Vernon wheeled around on her, grabbing her by the hair and slamming her head into the wall. 

“You bring her back!” He bellowed, face purple with rage, “You bring her back now and you put her right! You and your brother are going to have hell to pay for this one, girl!” 

Vernon released her hair in surprise when Harry whipped his wand out, pointing it so close to his head that Willow could nearly see a bead of her uncle’s sweat connect with the tip. But after he got over the shock he began to laugh. 

“You aren’t allowed to do magic outside of school!” He exclaimed with a tone not unlike glee, “You’ll have nowhere to go!” 

Harry grabbed Willow’s arm once again, jerking her away from her furious uncle. 

“We don’t care. Anywhere is better than here!” 

And so the pair absconded from the terrible house and out into the night. Eventually they were picked up by a strange vehicle called the “Knight Bus” and were whisked away to relative safety. 

And so another strange year at Hogwarts began. Things went relatively back to normal for Willow, though she couldn’t help but feel strange about what Harry was going through. Who was Sirius Black and why did he want her brother to die? Of course he was infuriatingly keeping her out of it all together, even though she was sure he knew much more than he was letting on. 

By the time the year had passed and everything was sorted Willow was left feeling rather put out. Harry had finally divulged what had happened with Sirius and while she tried to be happy for him she couldn’t quite muster it. Why, if they had a godfather, was he totally uninterested in her? Why had no one been worried for  _ her _ safety? Why did no one outside of Luna pay her any mind at all? 

She knew in her heart the answers to these questions but she tried not to think on it for too terribly long. She knew that it was because she could never measure up to  _ the boy who lived.  _ She was smart enough, but not brilliant like him. Courageous where she could be, but never the hero. The best she had was that she was a fair bit prettier than him, but what did that get her? Nothing but abuse and ogling. 

It was petty to be upset about these things, of this she was aware. She should have been fearful for Harry’s struggles and proud of his triumphs. Should have been his biggest supporter. And she supposed she was on the outside, but people still talked. How could they not? She just didn’t quite make the Potter grade. 

The summer before her third year was torture as it always was, her days dragging on at a snail’s pace. However, Willow felt something inside her slowly changing as the oppressively hot months droned on endlessly. She felt she was noticing more around her. Noticing how Harry never came out of his room anymore, spending almost every night sneaking down to the fireplace to use what floo powder he had left to talk with his friends. Noticing how Petunia seemed to be getting snappier and snappier at her husband and children. Noticing how Dudley sometimes had an intense look of guilt in his eyes when he hurt her. Noticing how, without fail, her torment slipped through the cracks. 

She hated it but it made her unbearably angry. Anger was an unusual emotion for the normally confined sixteen-year-old, but she found it coloring her thoughts almost regularly now. Why was this happening to her? Why did no one care? Why did  _ Harry,  _ the one person who she had felt had her back, not noticed? He rarely even spoke to her these days, let alone looked close enough to see the obvious pain she was enduring. 

Shortly before she was due back at Hogwarts she began to notice the colored lights around her shift for the second time in her life- now she was encircled by a muddy maroon not asimilar to dried blood. It’s shine was dull and mottled. She felt hideous and for once was glad that no one else could see what she did. Somehow this new shade was worse than the dullish grey that had once colored her energy. She thought back to the brilliant indigo of her childhood, trying to picture it in her head, but she couldn’t get the shade quite right. She supposed it was well enough. It wasn’t like she was ever going to be that innocent girl again. Maybe she was never intended to be worthy of such bright things. Maybe she wasn’t intended to be worthy of anything at all. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! So excited to bring you all into the era of the Goblet of Fire, my personal favorite book for erm... reasons... (*cough* Cedric *cough*). Anyhow, I am here to ask you once again to remember that the ages are changed in this AU. Cedric is a sixth year during the Goblet of Fire in this universe, making him nineteen. Alright then, that's all! Thank you and enjoy!

_ The Quidditch World Cup _

Willow thought the words with near awe as she trekked through the thick woods behind Harry and his friends. She was going to see real professionals play Quidditch- the best of the best at that! The excitement she was feeling almost paralleled that which she had felt upon arriving at Hogwarts. And besides that, she got to hang out with people who weren’t Luna. Not that her best friend wasn’t amazing, but it did get a bit boring to only talk to one person day in and day out. 

The only detractor from her day was Ginny’s presence. Originally she wasn’t going to have been allowed to go, but seeing as Willow was the same age and she was going… well the Weasley parents hadn’t really had a solid argument to stop her after that. Through the years the two redheaded girls had not really mended their differences, sort of the opposite really. Willow thought it probably due to their run in first-year combined with how Harry mostly still ignored Ginny in favor of Willow. Not that the latter statement was the case anymore. Now he just ignored them both. 

And yet her classmate still seemed to despise her. She was quite popular in Gryffindor and had turned most of the girls in that house against her- even Hermione’s attitude around her seemed to have soured. It honestly made Willow angry. It wasn’t that she minded so much what the other house thought of her. It was the principle of it. She had done almost nothing to deserve the meanness and yet she still received it. She scoffed. Seemed to be a theme in her life. 

At least Ron still liked her. Willow was pretty sure that the older boy was sweet on her, actually. Every time she visited the ramshackle house with Harry he was sure to spend time with her. Willow liked that a lot. Not many people intentionally went out of their way for her, and while she didn’t have the same romantic feelings for him she did appreciate his presence in her life. He was awkward but very kind and best of all he never pressured her to do anything she didn’t want to. He gave her hope that all boys weren’t as foul as she had feared. 

Speaking of romantic inclinations, she had sort-of begun to develop a crush. If she was being honest with herself, it was a full-on infatuation, but the idea of being attached to someone who she knew so little of made her deeply uncomfortable. In fact, liking anyone at all made her uncomfortable, bringing up the worst sort of emotions. Every time she felt that tingling sensation in her belly when she thought of him she was dragged right back to the personal hell that festered in her memories. If she could fancy someone didn’t that mean that she had deserved it? 

So she tried to keep thoughts of him out of her head entirely. It wasn’t like she saw him often enough for it to be a real issue, either. He was a sixth year- and a Hufflepuff to boot. If she just avoided going to Quidditch games where Hufflepuff played she wouldn’t have to encounter him at all. 

“Arthur! It's about time son!” came a jolly bellow from somewhere ahead of them in the woods. Mr. Weasley broke into a grin and greeted the encroaching form with a firm hug and clap on the back. 

“Sorry, Amos. Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start. This is Amos Diggory, everyone, he works with me at the ministry. And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?” 

And out from behind his father came Cedric himself, glowing the hearty gold that Willow knew so well. She flushed furiously and ducked her head. No one had told her  _ he  _ was going to be here! And just seconds after she had been daydreaming about him, at that. 

“Yes sir,” he said with a disarmingly genuine smile. He stuck out a hand for Mr. Weasley to shake.

“And Merlin’s beard-” said Amos, squinting at the children, “You two must be Harry and Willow Potter!” 

Willow raised her eyebrows in surprise. No one ever acknowledged her when she was with Harry. 

“Yes, I am,” Replied Harry sheepishly, but Amos turned to look at Willow. 

“Great things you both are destined for, we talk about it often at the Ministry. Never take yourself for granted, now. The world should be grateful to have young witches and wizards like you.” 

Willow knew it would be polite to thank him but she couldn’t seem to do anything but stare at him with wide eyes. What did he mean,  _ great things she was destined for?  _ Harry was destined for greatness, not her. 

Her brother lightly shoved her shoulder and she stuttered out a 'thanks' before they continued their walk towards their destination. 

Eventually they came upon a hill at the top of which sat a very worn and almost moldy looking boot. Willow trailed behind the rest of the group, approaching it with caution. It was clearly magical, that much she knew. They all began to circle about it, leaving her and Harry standing there looking rather confused.

Harry was the first to speak up. 

"Why are we all standing around this manky old boot?" 

"That isn't just any manky old boot, mate," spoke up one of the twins. George maybe but she could never be sure. 

"It’s a  _ portkey _ ." Finished the other. 

Willow began to approach it curiously. Upon closer inspection she could hear and almost see it pulsing with powerful magic. 

"What's a portkey?" She asked quietly, but everyone was already grabbing a hold of the smelly object. 

"Ready? One… two… three!" 

Willow gasped as her friends began to blink out of sight. At the very last moment, she felt a hand grasp hers tightly. And with that, she was whirled up into the sky. She tried to scream but nothing came out, the air knocked out of her. 

"Let go, kids!" Yelled Mr. Weasley over the roaring wind.

"What?!" Screamed Hermione in response. 

"Let! go!" 

She knew better than to drop the hand grasping hers, sure that he meant his statement for those who were touching the key directly. She watched as Harry and his friends plummeted unceremoniously to the ground and had to stifle a laugh. 

"Bit more fun with someone who has some experience, isn't it?" Joked a smooth, teasing voice from beside her. She looked over and felt herself instantly go red. 

_ It was Cedric holding her hand.  _

He tossed his head back and chuckled at her expression but not altogether unkindly. They landed softly and looked at each other. Willow gave a shy smile. His fingers were still clasped around hers. 

She felt a bit sad when he finally did drop her hand but the feeling was quickly replaced with wonder as she took in the vast campsite that stood before them. 

She spun around in shock as a broom whizzed by just centimeters from her head, a raucous laugh trailing behind it. She had to leap out of the way of several more reckless racers on their way to their tent, but she didn't mind. It just added to the joyfully chaotic atmosphere. 

They said their goodbyes to the Diggory's (Willow swore Cedric had smiled at her for just a bit longer than he had the others) and found themselves in front of a small, shabby tent. She must have been making a face because Ron laughed and shoved her lightly in the shoulder. 

"S'not what it looks like, c'mon!" he ducked his head to enter through the small flap and was gone. 

Suspiciously Willow followed and had to hold back a gasp at what she saw. It was  _ huge  _ on the inside, like no tent she had ever seen before. The decor inside was worn yet still vibrant and colorful and all the Weasleys looked very at home inside. She settled herself onto a comfortable cushion in the corner of the living area and closed her eyes, taking in the warm, cinnamon scent that seemed to linger permanently in the air. She figured that  _ had  _ to be a charm too. Just outside the door the atmosphere was… well it was much less pleasant. 

The trek up to the stadium was long and crowded, but Willow didn't mind the ache in her legs. When she had begun to slow from the strain, however, Ron had swung her up onto his shoulders and continued for quite some time that way, much to Willow's surprise. She was very small for a sixteen-year-old, sure, and he was quite a bit taller than most seventeen-year-olds. But his strength still caught her off guard. Had he been working out? He certainly hadn't been able to perform such a feat the last time she had seen him. 

He set her down when they reached the stadium itself and Willow giggled a bit at his reddened face. It had clearly caused more strain than he was willing to admit.  _ Boys,  _ she thought with a scoff,  _ always trying to show off.  _

She trudged up the steep steps between Harry and Ron, the three chatting away like the best of friends. It was nice, Willow thought, to be able to spend some time with them. When Hermione was off chatting with Ginny it seemed Harry paid a lot more attention to her. That made her wonder a bit to herself. Was he interested in her? If so, why did everyone seem to abandon their loved ones at the slightest romantic inclination? 

"Blimey!" exclaimed Ron as they climbed yet another set of steps, "How far up are we, dad?"

"Well to put it this way… if it rains you'll be the first to know."

Willow turned toward the silky smooth voice to see Lucius Malfoy and his two children, Aquila and Draco standing behind them. Aquila shone bright silver as ever, though Willow did notice a slight greenish tinge to the edges of her light. Lucius's color was terrifying and enthralling all at the same time- his essence emanating a deep metallic gunmetal shade unlike any she had ever seen before. But out of all of them it was Draco that caught her eye. 

The boy stood behind his father with his head cocked and a smirk on his face, but Willow could see a familiar pain in his eyes. He looked just like her, his aura the exact same deep, muddied red with copper tones that made it look almost like a bloodstain. She shivered and wrapped her cloak around her tighter.  _ What had happened to him?  _

She must have been staring too obviously because his expression darkened as he spoke.

"What are  _ you  _ looking a-"

" _ We're  _ in the minister's box!" exclaimed Aquila haughtily, cutting her brother off, "by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself!"

Lucius looked down at her with an almost disgusted look in his eye. Willow felt bad for her, even though she was being quite snobbish. It was clear the Malfoy patriarch had not forgotten the shame of her sorting. 

"Don't boast, Aquila. There's no need to around these…  _ people. _ " 

The way he said 'people' sounded almost like a slur and Willow bristled, ready to defend her friends. But before she could do so he finished,

"Do enjoy yourselves, won't you?  _ While you can. _ "

The words echoed jarringly in Willow's ears and she watched in confusion as her vision began to tunnel. She felt her body slump back into someone's arms, and with that, her world went black. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait- I'm back! Not too much to say about this chapter that won't spoil it. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy!

_ Lights flashed angrily across her vision and terrified screams pierce the air. Worst of all a low, ominous chanting rumbles across the campsite, making her hair stand on end. Looking around her she realized that she was moving quickly through the crowd, her hand tightly grasped by her brother who was nearly dragging her along. With a deafening crack a bolt of some spell struck the ground next to them, the force tossing Willow to the side, out of the stream of terrified quidditch fans. It knocked the breath out of her, and when she recovered Harry was nowhere to be seen. Panic rose in her throat as she saw a group of black cloaked figures proceed in her direction as she realized the chanting was coming from them. She scrambled back on her hands and knees, hiding herself behind the smoldering remains of a tent.  _

_ She wasn't sure how long she sat there but eventually the crowd thinned and she was left shivering in the crackling wreckage. Just as she had begun to brush herself off and look around when the crunch of footsteps sent her scurrying back to safety. From the safety of her hiding spot she peeked her head around the corner to see who it was.  _

_ She couldn't see anything except the back of the man's tattered robes and the dark curls of his shaggy hair, but something in her knew that he was not someone to reveal herself to. He raised his wand. _

_ "MORSMORDRE!" _

_ A green light blinded her vision and once again her world faded to black.  _

"-Will? Will?!"

A familiar voice cut through her stupor and she blearily blinked her eyes open. Harry and Ron stood above her looking concerned. 

"Blimey, Will," said Harry as he helped her to a seat and pulled her into a hug, "You scared me."

Over his shoulder Willow glanced to where the Malfoys had been. The only one left was Aquila, a strange, guilty look playing at her face as she stared at her prone form. Willow caught her eye and she flushed bright red and scurried after her brother. 

"Here, I've got some reviving potion. Give this to her with some water."

It was Willow's turn to flush red as she saw Cedric pulling out a small vial and a skin of water from his sack. Why was he even here? Why did he keep showing up without her knowing? He caught her staring and gave her a slightly worried smile as he walked over to her, crouching down to her. 

"Do you know what happened? You fell out for a minute."

Willow stared up at him blankly.  _ Oh yeah, Cedric, I just had a silly little vision of a terrorist attack on the campground. No big deal. _

"I guess it was just erm… a long walk."

He nodded sympathetically and handed her the purple vial. 

"It can get to anyone. Here, drink this. It will help."

Willow sniffed the liquid and gagged, looking at him suspiciously. He laughed. 

"Trust me, the taste is worth it."

Not giving herself a chance to wimp out she knocked it back. It was vile and when she was done she let out a sputtering cough. Cedric patted her back supportively. 

"Just wait."

Like clockwork she felt a soft jolt of energy begin to course through her veins, the nasty aftertaste quickly fading. She blinked a few times, sure the world seemed just a bit brighter. He smiled at her. 

"There, much better now, right?" 

She nodded gratefully and for the second time that day he grasped her hand, pulling her up. The force of it made her stumble forward into his chest and she felt heat rise to her cheeks as he looked down at her. 

"Careful now, renervate juice will make you a bit clumsy those first few minutes."

"S-sorry" She stuttered, stepping back, now much more aware of her motions. 

"S'alright. C'mon, I think we're all seated very close together. Don't want to be late." 

He jogged forward to join his father and Willow was left with an odd tingling sensation in her hands. 

He was right about their seating, all of them were crowded together in the same box. She settled into a seat next to her brother but she couldn’t stop her eyes from occasionally drifting over towards Cedric. Even in the dull sunlight the mystical light surrounding him glimmered brightly, causing a soft golden cast to play against his skin and hair. Suddenly a vibrant green blocked her view and settled into the seat beside her. Her mood instantly soured.  _ Ginny.  _

“He’s got a girlfriend, you know.” Ginny stated smugly, not even looking over at Willow, “She’s much prettier than you too.” 

Willow looked down at her feet. Of  _ course  _ he had a girlfriend. She was an idiot to think he could be interested in her. Nonetheless she opened her mouth to retort but before she could the first team burst out onto the pitch and everyone was swept away by the enthralling magic of Quidditch. 

Their trip back to the tent was thankfully downhill- Willow wasn’t sure she could have handled another steep hike. The Irish had won so their entire party was practically jumping with joy, but she couldn’t quite convince herself to join in their festivities. A tingling sensation ran up and down her spine. If her dream about Aunt Marge had come true… would this? She wanted to warn someone but like last time she knew it would be brushed off.  _ It probably won’t happen anyhow,  _ she thought to herself,  _ I was just a bit tired, that’s all.  _

“What won’t happen?” 

Willow let out a small squeak as she heard Cedric amble up beside her. How had he heard her thoughts?

“Erm… I-”

He laughed. “Didn’t think you were talking out loud, did you? It’s alright, we’ve all done it.” 

She laughed nervously in return and looked down at her feet. She didn’t know how to reply. 

“So what year are you, anyhow? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.” 

Willow sort-of doubted that. She wasn’t as well known as Harry for sure, but it wasn’t a secret that the boy-who-lived had a little sister. Also hadn’t his father mentioned that she was a common topic of discussion? Why would he pretend he wasn’t in on that? She looked up at him and swore she noticed a bit of pink tinging his cheeks.  _ Well,  _ she thought,  _ two could play that game.  _

“About to be third… what about you? I don’t know many Hufflepuffs.” 

He grinned, clearly on to her. “Sixth. So are you excited to be able to go to Hogsmeade now?” 

“I suppose. Luna says Madam Puddifoot’s is a really nice spot. Plus I think it will be nice to study somewhere other than the Ravenclaw common room every once in a while.” 

“Oh trust me, studying is the last thing you will want to do when you get there. I could show you all the best spots, if you’d like?” 

He looked almost nervous as he asked and Willow felt herself unable to speak. There was a moment of silence. 

“Of course we don’t have to-” 

“-No!” She blushed as she realized how loud she had been, “No, sorry, I mean… I would love that.” 

“Right, it's a plan then.” He smiled at her, “Well, this is my tent. I’ll see you at school?” 

She nodded. 

“Yeah, see you there.” 

Willow almost forgot her worrisome vision as they entered their own tent, her thoughts wrapped up in a world that only involved her and Cedric. She barely noticed the silly antics of her peers as she wrapped herself up in a blanket and settled onto the couch. She did notice, however, the loud bang that pierced the joyful din. She sat straight up out of her seat. 

“Sounds like the Irish are getting their pride on,” joked Fred, “I-”

“No,” she interrupted loudly, drawing the attention of all in the room, “No, that’s not the Irish. We need to get out of here.” 

Mr. Weasley nodded. 

“She’s right. Get back to the Portkey, everyone, and stick together! Fred, George- Ginny is your responsibility. Harry, watch over your sister.”

Despite his words everyone stood still, looking confused and alarmed. Willow was the first to break out of the stupor, collecting her wand and grabbing Harry’s hand. 

“We’ve got to go!” She urged. 

The chaos was even worse than it had been in her dream. The chanting seemed quite distant and distressingly close at the same time, and the sound of human screams filled the air. And somehow, no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to make any other decisions than the ones she had already seen. As they came upon the spot where Willow knew the ground would be struck she tried to jerk to the side but found herself unable. The blast tossed her back, and exactly as she expected, Harry was dragged away by the rushing current of the crowd. 

Resigned to her fate she scrambled behind the same tent she already knew she would and waited. As the crowd thinned, she found fear building in her chest. She hadn’t forgotten the all-too-familiar green light at the end of her vision. She knew what that color meant. Was the dark robed man going to kill her? 

As she heard the crunch of his boots draw closer she had to hold back a whimper. She huddled even smaller in on herself, trying not to look. Despite her efforts she still did. Yet again, he raised his wand. Willow cringed, but then she realized it was not pointed at her at all. It was pointed at the sky. 

“MORSMORDRE!” 

She watched in awe as the sky burst into green flame, leaving behind a horrible visage of a snake coiling out from the maw of a skull. The man began to turn and Willow stirred, realizing her free will had returned. She leapt up and turned tail, running off into the night. 

“Willow? Willow?!” 

“Will?!” 

She ran towards the familiar voices, bursting into tears as Harry ran to her, wrapping her in a hug. 

“There you are,” said Ron a bit awkwardly, “We thought we’d lost you.” 

Willow screamed as another bolt of light shot towards them, Everyone ducking as they were bombarded from all sides. 

“Stop!” cried a voice above the din, “Stop! That’s my son!” 

The firing stopped and Willow looked up from behind the arm raised over her face. Mr. Weasley was coming towards them. 

“Kids are you alr-”

“Which of you conjured this?” Accused a harsh looking man with a dull brown glow. Willow stumbled back as he closed in on the group, her heart beating in her throat. 

“You can’t possibly think-” 

“Do not lie! You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!” 

“Crime?” Questioned Harry

“Barty, they’re just kids.” 

“What crime?!” Harry repeated, sounding just as distressed as Willow felt. 

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, “It’s his mark.” 

The man, Barty, opened his mouth to speak again. 

“You-”

“I saw who did it!” yelped Willow, “It was a man, just over that way. I didn’t get a good look at him but he was right behind that tent!” she finished, pointing in the direction from whence she came. 

Barty’s face drew into a line. 

“Very well! This way.” 

He and his group ran off in the direction of the mark and the four of them were left with Mr. Weasley. He sighed. 

“Alright, kids, we have to get back to the portkey. The Diggory’s are waiting.” 

Willow could barely keep up with the others as they trekked back up the hill, but Harry stayed beside her the whole time. Her bones ached from the impact of the blast and her skin was already blooming with purple and blue bruises. Tears still pricked at the corner of her eyes. She was beyond glad everyone was alright. That was for sure. But she couldn’t quite shake the night's events, or her dream. What was happening to her? 


End file.
